A Question of Finality
by Riley Green
Summary: Sometimes finality isn’t as final as it seems. BB
1. The Question

**A/N: **Ok, this story is a bit of major rework of a story I wrote a while ago. It will be in several parts and here is part one. I'm hoping to finish it tonight. This is my first Bones fic although I'm co-authoring a story with woatcapiiton called "The Rain Won't Stop" please check it out! Hope you all enjoy this. Please review. J

**Disclaimer:** The characters in this story are property of Fox, Josephson Entertainment, Far Field productions and Kathy Reich.

* * *

**Part One: The Question**

She crept from her bed, her small feet gliding delicately across the cool, smooth wooden floorboards, drawing her to the hallway that ran the length of the uptown apartment. The moon's glow, partially obstructed by a solitary tree that grew up from the pavement, nice and tall, flung a jaunty shadow across the doorway to the spare bedroom. Her next obstacle. She stole on tiptoes across the shadow, taking as few steps as possible, being careful not to step into any of the dark areas in fear they might draw her into a world of monsters and witches she couldn't escape from. Reaching the end of the hallway a small triumphant smile settled across her tiny pink lips. She'd made it this far, and no one had caught her, it seemed no one had even caught on that she was out of bed, long past her bed time. She felt proud of herself, proud of her defiance of the rules.

They were preoccupied though. They had fought again. Loud, ugly words, spliced with anger cutting through the dark air and reaching out to her in the warmth of her bed, drawing her to the edge of the hallway, pink fairy pyjamas and brown curly hair in disarray. She wanted to race into their bedroom, she could see the door hung open, a pool of light gathering on the floor. She wanted to stop them, silence them. Make them love each other the way _she_ knew they really did.

She had heard them fight so many times before, so many nights just like this one, when they thought she was long asleep and in reality her eyes had only been squeezed shut in an attempt to block out the horrible words she could hear them exchange and knew in her heart neither of them really meant. This fight had been replayed so many times, she could almost recite it by heart and yet tonight, for some reason, crouched beside the door peering with the innocent eyes of a child into the 'big' bedroom, she knew even at only 4-years old, this was different. There was something in the way they spoke to each other; the way their eyes screamed with anger that told her when he packed his bag tonight, time wouldn't bring him back.

This time when he slammed the front door and that jolt tumbled through her body from her head to her wiggly little toes, he was going for good. Just like her father had, just like every man before him had.

Just another one lost that she could add to the running blackboard tally in her mind. Another person to watch walk away.

Now the hallway echoed with a foreboding heavy silence, the kind of silence that monsters liked to lurk in, monsters that stole little girl's dreams and broke their hearts. She pressed herself against the sturdy wall in fear, holding her breath and willing herself to wake up, hoping that no monster would get her tonight. She was an eternal optimist though, her mother always joked, she was like a ray of sunshine, always with a smile. And there was a tiny ray of hope somewhere deep in her heart that kept telling her this had all been nothing more than a bad dream. The kind she would wake from and crawl into 'their' bed, into safe, warm arms, where no dream could hurt her until daylight crept into the world again.

She squeezed her blue eyes shut and rested her head against the wall trying to steady her racing heart. In her mind, she could picture the scene inside the bedroom, like a scene she had seen in a movie or a television show that could be rewound and played over and over again until the tape wore out, like her favourite video tapes always did. Her mother would be staunch, trying to hide tears that she could only deny for so long, hoping that he could pack quickly enough that he would never know of their existence. On the other side of the room, he would be packing, throwing his most essential possessions into the sad red duffel bag that regularly starred in this role. Red had been her favourite colour she remembered. Until that bag. Now she hated red because red meant he was leaving, red meant she was losing, her pain was red.

There came the echo of footsteps, before his sad face appeared before her, half shrouded in darkness, half in light. Crouching down to her level he glanced over his shoulder into the room he had just departed from.

"Hey kiddo," his voice was wavering, but strong enough so that her mother inside the room would know they had not been entirely alone during their fight.

"Where are you going?" her small voice asked him, genuinely curious, her innocence haunting him since he had no satisfactory answer to give her inquisitive mind.

"He's leaving," her mother's voice was tight, forced even and she glanced up at the woman she bore such resemblance to with a look of disdain. Somehow, she didn't know how, but this was _her_ fault. She sent them away. She could never get too close to anyone, in case she lost them for good, and she was sending him away, knowing there had never been anyone like him before.

Booth reached for her then, wrapping her small body in a tight embrace as her tiny arms wrapped around his neck. Her heart ached, she was certain it was about to explode into 7 different pieces, because, after all, 7 was her favourite number. She didn't want to let go of him. He suddenly wished she'd still been asleep, he felt for certain the little girl's presence would force an uncharacteristic decent into tears.

"I don't blame her," he whispered against her tiny ear looking up at Temperance making sure she understood these words were meant more for her than for her daughter. "This is what is best for everyone. No one gets hurt this way."

Suddenly she was crying red hot tears and tightening her grip on him, "No," she shouted looking directly at her mother with fire in her eyes, "It's not best. We need you. Don't go, please," she begged burying her face in his neck.

There was a moment of perceived indecision. His heart torn into 7 pieces too as he struggled with what he wanted to do and what he had to do. He had raised this little girl for 2 years now. She was his. His little girl, no matter what biology said. Walking away from her was going to be the hardest thing he'd ever have to do in his life.

Booth raised her face to look at him, her rosy cheeks soft and wet under the palm of his hand. He cried inwardly, these were tears he'd wiped away before, when she scraped her knee playing hopscotch, when she shut her little finger in the door by accident, when she couldn't understand why Bambi's mother had to die. Those tears had all been his to wipe away, there was no one better, and he hoped no one would ever take that away from him.

"Please," the little voice tried again, her lower lip sticking out, quivering as she refused to release her hold on him, "Don't leave me. Take me with you."

And suddenly he was free and she was running down the hallway towards her bedroom, throwing her favourite book and her teddy bear into her Minnie Mouse suitcase and dashing back out, missing the look that passed between her mother and him.

"You can't come with me," he told her softly as she struggled to pull her coat on over her pyjamas.

"Why not?" she didn't understand.

"Because I don't know where I'm going yet," he paused trying to come up with a solution that wouldn't pain them all. "How about this though? As soon as I get a place of my own you can come and stay for a weekend," he glanced up to check with Temperance, "If it's ok with your mom."

Temperance turned her face away, hiding the tears that she quickly wiped away.

He made an attempt for the door stopped only by a pleading voice from his side, half in her coat and slippers, her pyjamas scrunched beneath, her hair a mess of brown curls that would take Temperance hours to brush out, the little suitcase sitting idly at her feet. She still looked like a princess, his princess and he vowed she always would be as the words left her mouth.

"Please, don't leave me. What did I do wrong?"

Temperance couldn't look any longer, turning away as he fought back his own tears for the first time.

"You didn't do anything wrong," Booth grabbed her arms and spoke softly but firmly, "Sometimes grown ups just have to leave," he took a deep breath glancing at Tempe's back that was now to him, "I'm not leaving you Princess, but we can't live like this any longer. It's not fair to you or me or to your mommy."

And suddenly Temperance was turning around and injecting herself into the conversation, needing him gone so she could fall apart in privacy, so she didn't have to hide her vulnerability. "All right, that's enough. Say goodbye to my daughter and go Booth," she added a faltering please at the very end of her request.

"One more moment?" he begged and her mother must have complied because suddenly it was just the two of them in the darkened hallway. "I need you to listen to me ok?" he held her baby face between his hands. "I'm leaving her, I'm not leaving you. We'll do the same things we've always done; it's just going to be a little different from now on."

"You don't want me to be your little princess," she sobbed her eyes downcast now.

Booth sighed heavily and lifted her into his arms, holding her tightly, "You're always going to be my little princess," he vowed, "You're always going to be my girl no matter what anyone says."

"I have to go now though princess and I think you should go in that room," he gestured to Temperance's bedroom, "And give your mommy a big hug. Give her two. One from you and one from me."

"Why are you going?" she asked one more time hoping somebody would answer her question.

"That's a question for your mommy too. You ask her ok?"

She nodded, her curls bobbing up and down defiantly as he wiped away some tears that lingered on her cheeks.

"Ok," he wiped away a couple of tears of his own. "I'll see you later Princess," he waved goodbye to her as he watched her creep towards Tempe's room. Peering round the corner of the door he watched the little girl climb up onto the bed beside her crying mother and stroke her head the way Tempe always did when she was upset.

"We're going to be ok mommy," the small voice was reassuring. "Maybe he'll come back."

"He's not coming back," her mother sobbed, admiring her daughter's optimism and innocence in that moment for she understood nothing of the grown up things that had driven the only family she'd known apart.

"Why not?"

"Because I did something wrong. I wasn't strong enough." Tempe admitted quietly, "I broke his heart."

"He doesn't have another family though, we're all he has, we love him," the little girl was defiant.

"Sometimes when we love people we make mistakes, we get scared," Tempe offered.

"What mistake did you make?" the small hand, delicate as a butterfly stilled on its journey through the brown hair it had been tracing.

"I loved someone else," she whispered, "And you're not supposed to do that when you say you love one person."

"But I love two people. I love you AND I love Seeley."

"It's different baby --- it's so different."

Temperance pulled her daughter into a tight embrace rocking her gently, "Mommy?"

"Yeah?"

"He's coming back. He isn't really gone."

Temperance sighed wishing there was some simple way to explain finality to her daughter. "Not everyone comes back."

"I know that. Daddy didn't come back. He wasn't meant to. But _he's_ meant to come back, he's meant to be with us."

Temperance didn't have an argument, secretly somewhere in her heart she hoped one day she might be forgiven. The two snuggled under the covers together, Tempe stroking her daughter's curls until the soft sounds of sleep and the distant hum of dreams filled the room, "Goodnight sweetheart," she whispered into the darkness.

"Don't worry Mommy," a tiny voice teetering on the edge of the unconscious, "He's coming back. I know he is."

**End of Part I**


	2. The Desperation

**A/N: Thank you to everyone who reviewed, your feedback made my day. I hopethis next part evokes the emotions I intended it to, I want to say ENJOY but somehow that doesn't feel like the right instruction!

* * *

****Part II**

**The Desperation**

It was late when she heard the front door close and the hushed mumble of adult voices in the hallway, echoing through the night and reassuring her that _finally_ her mommy was home. Footsteps echoed and the door shut again, silence overtaking her home. It was a silence she was still unaccustomed to, a silence she believed was only temporary. He couldn't stay gone forever. Eventually, one night she just knew that when that door opened and closed there would be two voices conversing with the nanny, two voices ushering her on her way and two sets of footsteps traversing towards her room to bid her goodnight, even though it was long past the hour she was should have been asleep.

Every night she hung out though, warding off the dreams with a power she had long ago discovered. If she tried hard enough, she could be awake when they came home and that was all she wanted. A few minutes of conscious time with the two people she loved most in the whole universe, the concept of its enormity still too hard for her to grasp.

He never came home though. Her mother did, every night the same routine. Bidding goodnight to the nanny, lingering in the hallway afraid of the silence and the loneliness it symbolized. Then she would appear in the doorway to her daughter's bedroom, sometimes triumphant, other nights troubled by a case she couldn't quite get her head around.

"Faker," Temperance laughed now watching a smile slowly grow across the little girls face as she realized she had been caught out. "What are you still doing awake?" she looked towards the clock, its numbers piercing through the darkness.

"I was waiting for you mommy," came the simple reply she couldn't possibly bring herself to argue with.

Tempe climbed up onto her daughter's bed and the two snuggled together under the covers. A tiny hand came towards her face, tracing her eyes, her nose, her lips with careful consideration.

"You're sad mommy," was the quiet but fearful reply cutting straight through Temperance's heart. She cursed her daughter for being so perceptive, for knowing even at 4 years old, exactly how to read what was written on her mother's heart. "Why are you sad?" the little girl searched the eyes that had been a gift from her mother to her, her little arms holding on tight, offering comfort in the only way she knew how.

"I wanted to save someone today," Temperance chose her words carefully as she always did when explaining work to her daughter, "But, I couldn't find any answers for them," she closed her eyes, scenarios still running through her head, impossible to turn off, always there, always a part of her, programmed to run until she could conclusively say she knew the answers to yet another mystery.

A tear slid from Temperance's eye, glistening in the light shed by an ever watchful moon. "Don't cry mommy, you'll find the answers tomorrow. You're the smartest person in the whole world."

She smiled then at her daughter's blind optimism and faith. The people she loved were always heroes in her eyes, able to save anyone, do anything. Temperance liked being a hero, she just wished she had some of that entirely innocent faith, believing that when the dawn broke the world started anew, yesterday was forgotten, pain and tears, hurt all left behind in the shadows of the night. She wanted her little girl to remain blissfully ignorant for as long as possible, but then again she could only hope.

"Go to sleep now," she encouraged, smothering the little face in kisses, each one filled with a love she never knew existed until the brown haired, blue eyed angel had come into her world.

"I can see Booth tomorrow?" the little voice piped up, a yawn breaking through her carefully grown-up façade.

"He's going to take you for dinner."

"I miss him," the little girl drawled sleepily, unaware of just how true those words were as they echoed inside her mother's heart also. Temperance closed her eyes against the onslaught of emotions, guilt sucking her dry, tearing her to pieces. "I miss him too," she reassured quietly; "I miss him so much."

Temperance lay there for several minutes, waiting for a sure sign that sleep had come to claim her daughter and that dreams would mind her until the morning.

Of course she misses him; she chastised herself for the alarm that had set in the moments those words had reached her ears. You miss him, why shouldn't she? The only difference is, you see him everyday. You get to be near him, to converse with him, to miss him up close. She had realized it was true what they said, there was no greater way to miss someone than to be right next to them knowing they were no longer yours.

Another kiss placed against her daughter's forehead and Temperance climbed carefully out of the bed, only stopping again to glance back from the doorway to make sure she was asleep.

* * *

The water ran and ran, gushing down the pipe that ran down the brick wall outside her bedroom. It woke her from her dreams of happy families and she couldn't quite remember whether it really had been a dream or a memory instead. She looked to the clock on her nightstand and wished for a magical power to help her learn to tell the time right now. It was late, she knew that much, later than it had been when she had been tucked into bed for the second time that night. She was alone now though, but a pool of florescent light puddled beneath her closed bedroom door.

Crawling from her bed and donning the bunny slippers that lingered patiently at the foot of the bed she reached for the door knob, smiling triumphantly when the door opened easily. She was getting taller, it was getting simpler. She shuffled down the hallway, the bright lights hurting her eyes still clouded with sleep and images of the three of them living happily ever after in their castle up on the hill.

The apartment was shrouded in light, it burned brighter than the surface of the sun and yet her mother was no where to be found. The kitchen and living room were devoid of human life, her bed unmade but not occupied. The door to the bathroom was shut and she tried the handle only to realize it had been locked from the inside.

"Mommy?" she whispered loudly afraid to disturb the heavy silence that engulfed her home.

There was no answer, just the continued rush of heavy water falling against porcelain tile. She tried again and again, each time her voice growing louder, her confusion mounting.

Sliding down beside the door, holding onto her favorite teddy bear she waited patiently, hoping that any moment the door would open and her mother would appear, fresh as a daisy, complaining about having to put her back to bed yet again. Somehow she knew something was wrong though. Minutes passed, and although she could not judge time properly she was aware that the water had been running much longer than it should have been.

Pressing her stomach to the cold wooden floor she tried to peer beneath the door, failing to see anything to satisfy her curiosity. "Mommy?" she called again, loud this time, a hint of desperation and shrillness creeping into her voice, giving away her fears.

Yet again, no answer.

She pressed her ear close to the door and listened intently. The water was loud, gushing and spluttering and drowning out almost every other sound, but if she listened closely, hard enough, and teddy listened too, she was sure she heard something else. It was the kind of sound that made her heart run dry and her eyes fill with tears, the sort of sound she hated to hear. Was her mother really crying? That's what it sounded like, deep heavy sobs that punctuated the water's rhythm, played percussion to the water's music.

She sat up suddenly, pounding on the door with all her might, wishing she was stronger, taller, more grown-up, and knew what she was supposed to do.

"Mommy, it's me. Open the door," she too was crying now, desperation unleashed.

"_Mommy……………" _

**End of Part II

* * *

**

Please REVIEW! 


	3. The Call

_A/N: So, I know it's before a while but here is another part to this fic. I wrote this a long time ago and it's been sitting on my computer gathering dust so I thought I better do something with it. There's one more part to come._

**Part III**

**The Call**

The little girl sat beside the bathroom door and sobbed, her tears filled with confusion and fear as the night wore on, both mounting until she thought she might die from it all. She hugged her teddy bear tight, promising him, through his sadness and her own, that everything would be ok. Everything would be ok for both of them. They would protect each other, love each other, share their tears and confusion until the world was clear again.

She paced her mother's bedroom, the distant sound of the water's music her only soundtrack. Standing beside the bedroom window she looked up to the stars, shining brightly, blindly oblivious to the lost little girl begging for guidance. "The stars are powerful," Booth had once told her, carrying her home one night after work. "They protect us, watch over us."

"But what are they?" she had asked her head resting against his shoulder, her arms around his neck, so many questions filling her mind that needed answers. "How did they get up there?"

He smiled holding her tighter, loving her for being her mother's child, for never being satisfied with the easy answer, always looking deeper, looking for more, even when no one else believed more existed. He had stopped then, putting her down on the pavement and crouching beside her, holding her close to ward off the winter cold. "See that star," he pointed to one high in the sky. "That's our star."

"Our star?" she looked to him quizzically, a question hanging in her eyes.

"Yes, yours and mine. Whenever you see that star you think of me ok, and how much I love you."

She smiled that smile that held such power over him and in that moment he didn't know how it was possible to love a child that belonged to someone else so damn much. "Where do the stars come from?" she had asked again and he had just smiled, hoisting her up in his arms again. "That's a question to ask mommy."

She looked for the star out the window, she thought she saw it, but she couldn't be sure. They all looked the same to her but suddenly she knew exactly what she had to do, who she had to call.

The phone sat dormant on her mother's nightstand beside papers and books and photographs, bits and pieces that when all mixed together filled a life. She held the phone in her hand and desperately tried to think, looking back and forth between her teddy bear and the phone as if he might give her a clue as to the number she was supposed to call. Teddy just stared at her, his mind as blank as hers and she tried to remember the numbers Booth had once made her recite over and over again when he had got his new phone number. He had been determined she would remember it, that she would know it off by heart so that she could call him, if ever she needed him. And she needed him now and her memory was failing her, the numbers all looked the same.

Then she remembered something, the list of phone numbers taped to the refrigerator, placed there specifically for the nanny in case of emergencies. She knew Booth's number was on it, she'd seen it and felt angry that the evidence of his disappearance from their regular life hung proudly on the fridge like a painting she had done in Kindergarten or a photo capturing a memory they wished to keep alive. Leaving Teddy behind to guard the bathroom door she raced into the kitchen, lugging a chair towards the refrigerator so she could reach the slip of paper, the numbers written in meticulous neatness on the purple piece of stationery.

Racing back to the bedroom her eyes ran down the list of unimportant numbers and people until she saw his name. She dialled the number slowly, cautiously; afraid she might make a mistake and end up talking to a stranger instead. He'd be sleeping; she knew that, she imagined him sprawled out in his bed in his new small apartment, entirely alone, nobody to talk to, no one to keep him company.

His voice was rough when he answered, hoping it wasn't work, that he wasn't being summoned to duty when all he wanted was a few more hours sleep. "Hello Seeley, its Gracie Brennan speaking," she summoned her most grown-up voice ignoring the slight tremble in her words as they rolled of her tongue.

"Gracie?" he sounded confused, disorientated, "Sweetheart its four o'clock in the morning, you should be in bed."

"I needed to talk to you," she informed him, and he couldn't help but notice the tinge of desperation peeking through her words.

"What's going on princess?"

"It's mommy," she whispered glancing over her shoulder to make sure Teddy was still keeping an eye on the door.

Booth sat up straight in bed, his hand furiously rubbing at his eyes, willing sleep to evaporate from him brain. "What's wrong with mommy?"

"I don't know, she won't come out of the bathroom."

"How long has she been in there?" he tried to get a handle on the situation.

"I don't know," her lower lip started to tremble and her eyes filled with tears. She had been strong despite feeling completely lost, held it together for long enough, longer than any 4-year old could. "She needs you," Gracie cried, "We need you."

"Ok, listen to me princess. Don't go anywhere. You just hang tight, I'm on my way." Booth sprung into action, throwing on whatever clothes happened to be closest as he dashed through the apartment looking for his keys, cursing himself for not cleaning up earlier like he vowed he would.

"Gracie, I'm coming now. Hold on sweetheart."

She held on, fighting back her tears, trying to stay strong like she knew she should. Seconds seemed to drag on for hours and she sat beside the front door waiting for him to knock, to signal that help had arrived, that she didn't have to be alone, basking in her mother's sadness any longer.

She flung the door open the second he knocked rushing into his arms as he swept her up planting kisses against her face. "Mommy's sad," she offered as tears ran down her own face faster than he could wipe them away. "She couldn't help someone."

He nodded, he knew. Trying to hold his panic at bay he carried her towards the bathroom. She crouched beside the door again and watched him hesitate before pounding firmly and calling for her, "Tempe…it's me. Open the door...please."

Gracie looked at him, his voice on the edge of breaking as he begged with the silent occupant of the locked room. He was scared too she realized, he didn't know what was going on any more than she did. They were both blindly finding their way down a dark tunnel searching for a clue, a light, anything that would signify everything was okay.

He shook the door handle violently and she cowered away from him frightened by his force. He looked down at her, fear shadowing her eyes making them seem darker, deeper than they ever had before. He came down to her level, "Can you do something for me?" he asked her gently. She nodded her head bravely. "I need you to go and get some towels from the hall closet, do you think you can do that?" he ruffled her hair and she sprung into action.

He wrestled with the door for several moments more before entirely frustrated he gave it a swift kick and it sprung open, steam billowing out and carrying him forth with the cloud of condensation. "Temperance…" he stepped inside the room, waiting for the air to clear sufficiently. She looked so small, child-like, huddled in the far corner of the shower, the water, now cold, rushing over her body in a torrent of ice.

He reached for the fluffy white towel sitting patiently on the counter top before reaching inside and turning the water off, the music stopped, only the percussion continued. Tiny hiccups and sobs that bounced off the white tiled walls and broke his heart one tiny piece at a time. Wrapping the towel around her, he pulled her body flush against his not caring that his own clothes were rapidly absorbing a mixture of water and tears.

"What were you doing in here?" he asked her desperately as she allowed him to hold onto her, as she melted into the warmth and security of his embrace.

She didn't answer him, her eyes were blank, emotionless, like all the life had been sucked out and washed away down the shower drain. The little girl appeared in the doorway again, a huge stack of towels almost pulling her over. Placing them on the floor beside the now open door she rushed towards her mother, wrapping her arms around her legs, clinging to her, never wanting to let go until the sadness disappeared.

The three of them stood there and several minutes passed. Booth took the little girls hand, his other resting gently against Tempe's back as he guided them both from the bathroom and into the adjoining bedroom. Gracie yawned, her eyes watering from a combination of tiredness and relief he could only assume. "How about we put you to bed?" came Booth's suggestion glancing at Temperance and then at Gracie.

"What about mommy?"

"I'll look after mommy, you need some sleep princess. It's late."

He carried her back to her bedroom, slipping her beneath the covers and tucking her in tightly. "Is mommy going to be ok?" she asked quietly looking up at him wide-eyed begging him to tell her only the truth.

"I'm going to look after her," he assured her with a kiss. "Now go to sleep."

"You'll be here in the morning?" she yawned widely her eyes slipping shut as the events of the night caught up with her.

"I'll be here," he promised.

And he would.

**End of Part III**


End file.
